Something to be Thankful For
by ApprenticeTrashmen
Summary: To say Ragna isn't a fan of Thanksgiving is an understatement, but having a talk with an unlikely someone might just be what it takes to turn his views around.


**Read the tags, fuckers. This is about friendship.**

 **I don't own BlazBlue.**

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Thanksgiving was a bit different one-hundred years ago, or so Ragna was told.

If his memory served from what the Sister told him, it used to be celebrated solely in North America. The reasoning behind it escaped Ragna at the moment, but he knew it wasn't quite the same holiday these days. Once the dust settled after the Dark War had come to an end, Thanksgiving had become a holiday worldwide. It was still all about being thankful and all that junk, only now keeping in mind that everyone had something in common in that department. Now _everyone_ could give thanks for something even if it was just for living in the world sans one big, bad Black Beast.

Still a load of bullshit either way, if you asked Ragna.

Yes, as he felt for nearly every holiday, the criminal thought it was nothing more than a waste of time. Give thanks? For what? Should he be thankful for his missing arms, broken home, and metric ton of garbage he puts up with? Or should he be thankful that he must desperately cling to the few things he still actually cherishes? He didn't need to be told that, and he didn't care to have it shoved in his face either. He had nearly slugged Kagura over it too. The Black Knight was making a big stink about Ragna coming to a Thanksgiving get together with the whole gang, as he put it, but Ragna told him to screw off. He just couldn't stand a mushy gathering like that. When Kagura couldn't accept Ragna's stance on matter, the two ended up getting in a screaming match when Kagura refused to back down, and things only ended when the latter stormed out. It was like this ever since his meager social circle had grown a bit and it drove him nuts. The only one who ever respected his boundaries regarding irritating celebrations was Rachel. He wasn't interested, she knew it, and left the issue alone.

Simple.

The only time Ragna enjoyed himself on Thanksgiving after _that_ day were these special meals Jubei would make for him and Rachel during his training. The three would just have a nice sit down and relax. They never mentioned giving thanks or anything annoying like that. So aside from that special exception, Ragna just couldn't find any value in the day.

Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. There was one other tiny advantage that came along with the holiday.

Soup kitchens.

Apparently, it was something they did back in the day too—taking extra good care of the homeless, that is. Whatever. Just meant free food as far as Ragna was concerned.

Just like years previous, the criminal found himself standing in line with his arms folded with a bunch of bums waiting to be fed as his company. The place smelled and sure looked depressing, but hey, a meal is a meal. Who was he to complain? The wait was becoming irritating though. These lot were really dragging their feet and Ragna was becoming more and more tempted to announce his presence and just take the food he wanted. Making everyone aware that the most wanted man in history was becoming impatient usually did the trick in getting Ragna what he wanted, and the thought of shoving his way to the front of the line was becoming more and more appealing. He was so preoccupied being a stick in the mud he didn't pay attention to the speed of the line and accidentally bumped into the person in front of him. Being the big guy that he was, he didn't stumble much but the stranger pitched forward pretty hard.

"Hey! Watch where you're walking!" A very aggressive, yet feminine voice barked.

That's just great, Ragna thought to himself. Some dumb drifter picking a fight would make for the perfect excuse to start throwing bodies every which way and finally getting something to eat. Ragna unfolded his arms and put on the nastiest look he could muster as he set his sights on the poor, unfortunate soul before him.

"Why don't _you_ watch who you're talking too, you stupid—" Ragna's voice caught in his throat as soon as he recognized the woman standing before him. Her tan skin, angry eyes and scarred nose were familiar enough despite only having met her a couple times before. Ragna couldn't remember too much about her, but one thing he did remember was how irritating the temperamental little runt was. "Oh…it's you…"

The look on Bullet's face quickly switched from anger, to surprise, and right back to anger. One does not simply forget meeting Ragna the Bloodedge, and it was clear that she remembered the less than stellar past the two of them shared.

"Well, if it isn't the Grim Reaper… What are you doing here?" Bullet spoke low, keeping her tone threatening. She was clearly on guard—a smart move when deal with SS class criminals.

"I dunno, what _is_ a guy up to when he is standing in line in a damn soup kitchen? Gee, I sure do wonder." Sarcasm dripped from every single one of Ragna's words.

"Really? You're going to give me attitude after you plow into me like that?" Bullet growled and held up a fist. "I gave you a pass before, but I'm starting to think it's time I taught you some manners, you punk."

"Is that right? Go ahead and give it your best shot, you little shit, and I just might work up an appetite." Ragna took a step forward and looked down on Bullet and he curled his own hands into fists.

"Oh, I promise, you don't be eating much after I feed you your own teeth." Bullet shot back, squaring her shoulders.

Both had abnormally short fuses as is, but as they were both also clearly running on empty stomachs, they were already more than prepared to come to blows. Ragna was confident he could end things with a quick headbutt considering how close they were, while Bullet figured all she had to do was knock Ragna's legs out from under him to leave him open for a pummeling. They were just waiting for the other to so much as blink and fists would be flying. Just one move…

"Hey! You're holding up the line!" A surly man yelled from behind Ragna, which prompted the enraged pair to whirl on him almost immediately.

"Mind your own business!" They roared in unison, causing the homeless man to topple to the ground and startle just about everyone else.

"S-S-Sorry! I'm sorry!" He stuttered in a panic.

The momentary distraction proved enough to calm Ragna and Bullet down, or at least make it so they weren't about to create an all-out brawl in the middle of the room. Ragna took a deep breath and faced forward again. The line had indeed moved up a few spaces, so he shot Bullet and look and nodded his head toward the line.

"You gonna start moving or what?"

"…Whatever." Bullet muttered before turning her back on the criminal and catching up with the others. Despite the potential fight being broken up, Ragna and Bullet continued to simmer. Neither of them were exactly good at letting things go, and both were itching to finish what they started. Bullet in particular couldn't believe the number of times she was letting some dumb thug get the better of her. She would love nothing more than to shut him up, but she knew she was taught better than getting in petty fights over small squabbles like these. They might not be around anymore, but Bullet wouldn't disrespect her troop over a silly street fight.

She didn't have to be happy about it though.

"This is ridiculous…" The mercenary groaned as she took another step forward. "I'm getting really sick of running into you, you know that?"

"It ain't my fault. It's impossible to _not_ run into your fat ass." Ragna responded in kind.

"Fat? Get real! There isn't an ounce of fat on my body." She ran drills every day and survived almost exclusively on rations—how she could be considered fat by anyone's standards was beyond her.

"No fat? What are you, high!? Why do you think I call you butt-floss?"

"Because you're stupid!" Bullet immediately whirled back around, teeth grit in a sneer. "How!? How do you _still_ not remember my name!? It's just a word, and not even a hard one either!"

"Wait, you told me your name before?" Ragna asked in genuine surprise, clearly angering the young woman even more.

"Bullet! My name is Bullet!"

"Well excuse me, _butt-floss_ , but I don't waste my time remembering the name of every single runt that picks a fight with me!" Ragna was now back to his aggressive posture and ready to brawl just as he was moments ago. Bullet followed suit, raising her clenched fists.

"Why you—"

"U-Um…t-the line…?" A timid voice spoke from the back.

"SHUT UP!" The pair screamed in unison once more, but complied by stomping forward to keep up with the others.

And this is how things continued for a while.

Ragna and Bullet would temporarily reign in their tempers, eventually start bickering, only calm down long enough to take a few more steps, rinse and repeat. They even kept the cycle going after they made it do the food counter—keeping pace with each other as they receive their portions and trade barbs the whole time. Both were so bullheaded that they actually waited for each other to grab their trays and even walked to a table together coming up with new insults for the other. They only finally stopped arguing when they started eating. Having some food in their stomachs improved the mood slightly, but neither was willing to drop their glare. Spending twenty or so minutes getting under someone's skin and vice versa will do that to you.

On one hand, Ragna couldn't believe his luck. Out of all the soup kitchen in all the cities in all the world he just had to go to the same one as some shit mercenary who had it out for him. Yet at the same time, of course this would happen to him. If life has taught him anything, it's that if bad things can happen then they will. Why else would he be seated next to one of the mouthiest brats he has ever met in his life? Then, after he would be back on the road, he was probably just going to walk until nightfall only to bunker down in an alleyway for a couple hours of sleep. Perhaps if he was really lucky he might find a nicely sized cardboard box to block the wind.

Happy goddamn Thanksgiving to him. If he was thankful for anything it was that the stupid holiday only came once a year.

"Sipping soup next to a criminal… Jeez, what a terrible way to spend the holiday." Bullet spoke up quietly.

"What the fuck does it matter?" Ragna spat, finally having enough of the day. "It's just another day. Another normal ass day. Giving something a name doesn't make it special. Anyone who says anything different is just wasting their damn time…" He was never one for a pity party usually, but sheer annoyance outweighed Ragna's more laid-back attitude at this point.

Though Bullet clearly disagreed by the way she scoffed at the man's complaints.

"Come on already, is that really necessary? Everyone has something they can be thankful for." The mercenary said.

"Oh yeah? Alright, tell me then, what are _you_ thankful for?" Ragna questioned in return.

"Well…I have my health, a bag of essentials…um…"

"Yeah, great list." Ragna clicked his tongue. Sure, that might be better than what some have, but not every little thing needed to be treated as a precious gift from above. If you work for something you shouldn't have to drop to your knees and thank the heavens for it, Ragna would argue.

"And I might as well be thankful for you too." Bullet continued nonchalantly.

"…What?" He must've heard her wrong, the criminal told himself.

"I said I might as well be thankful for you too, you punk." She shrugged as she placed her spoon down on her tray.

"But…why?" Ragna asked, slightly turning his body to look at Bullet. It juts didn't make sense to him. Why would she be thankful for the likes of him? They have only met a couple of times prior, and every time they met they argued. Hell, Ragna couldn't even remember her name for crying out loud… Not that it was necessarily on purpose, but the point still stood.

"Jeez, your memory really is awful. I think I have all the reason I need." The woman replied, shifting in her chair to rest her hand on her head. "I mean, not too long ago you cooked for me when you didn't have to, remember? I doubt I would've starved or anything, but it still meant a lot. Not to mention if it wasn't for you then that bastard Azrael would've killed me for sure."

The memory of their last meal together was pretty foggy, Ragna would admit, but he did certainly recall the incident with the Mad Dog. It all happened when they set up the trap to capture Azrael and Bullet got caught up in it. According to the plan, Ragna had to just hang back and wait, but his damn conscious got the better of him when he saw Bullet being manhandled. Even so…

"That wasn't a big deal, you know. If it wasn't me then someone else would've jumped in." Kagura was itching to jump in just as bad. That guy is always dying to play hero and save a damsel in distress. If he himself did not step up, Ragna knew Kagura would've been down there in seconds. He did the majority of the fighting that day too.

"Doesn't matter." Bullet brushed off Ragna's comment. "It was still you, and that's what matters. It's not like a lot of people have my back these days."

"That's fine, but really, I didn't really do anything."

"Look, the point I'm trying to make is that everyone has something so don't bother with all this self-pity. It isn't becoming of a real man. Besides…there is always gonna be days like this. Shit happens so just try again tomorrow, right?" Bullet spoke as she straightened up in her seat.

"Huh…you know, that actually makes a lot of sense." Ragna crossed his arms in contemplation after taking a second to process Bullet's advice.

"Well, yeah, you would think that."

"Hm? Why's that?" The criminal blinked with curiosity.

"W-What do you mean, 'why'? _You_ were the one who told that to _me_!" Bullet shrieked.

"I did?"

"Yes! When you fed me!" Bullet had trouble believing anyone's memory could be truly this bad.

"Hey, what do you expect? I already told you before that I got a bad memory."

"Oh! So, you can remember that!?" The man's lack of memory was going from plan stupid to straight up offensive to Bullet. It made her wonder if he was this much of an idiot with everyone or just her.

"Look, it's cool. Lets just lay off the yelling already, yeah? I've kinda had my fill of it for the day." Ragna said, able to relax a bit for the first time today. "I guess I can appreciate what you're doing, but I still think it's a stupid holiday."

Bullet's temper was calmed the same as Ragna's as she regarded the criminal for a moment. Perhaps it was simply her sense of right and wrong passed on from her captain, but she would've liked to pay the man back in some way. He had saved her life and she had only ever yelled at him in their brief meetings. Though she still couldn't say that was entirely her fault—Ragna the Bloodedge was a difficult individual to deal with to say the least. Still, he wasn't the worst person she ever met, and she certainly didn't want to remain in his debt forever.

The mercenary lowered her head to think, and realized that her bowl was empty. A quick glance proved that Ragna had finished his food as well. Seeing as they both finished eating, and the conversation basically died, Bullet could no longer see a reason to stay. The young woman got to her feet while placing her pack on the table to adjust the strap. However, a thought came to her, so Bullet opened up the bag and dug around for a moment.

"Hey, Reaper, heads up." Pulling an object out of her pack, Bullet lightly tossed it in Ragna's direction.

"Hm?" Catching the trinket, Ragna looked in his hand to see a beat-up medal. "What's this supposed to be?"

"…When I was growing up, I was in a military troop. I went on my first real mission when I was only a kid, and while things could've gone better, I managed to complete it. When we returned to camp, my captain gave me that medal. He told me it was one he was awarded back when he was starting out too. He said the confidence it brought him helped him improve quickly, and that it would do the same for me." Bullet explained in a wistful tone.

"Okay…? So why give it to me?" Ragna questioned, prompting Bullet to turn and look Ragna in the eye.

"Call it something to be thankful for. It really isn't much, I know, but…well, if you _really_ didn't have anything than now you do." Bullet replied before slinging her back over her should and grabbing her tray with her free hand. "Take care of yourself, Ragna the Bloodedge."

With those final words and a nod, the mercenary turned to leave and continue her own journey. However, she didn't make it far before Ragna spoke up.

"Just 'Ragna' is fine." He spoke, causing Bullet to stop and glace back. "You know, if there is a next time or whatever."

"Does that mean you are going to remember my name?" Bullet questioned.

"Guess you'll have to wait and see." Ragna chuckled.

Bullet scoffed in response, but still gave a small wave before walking off.

After waiting a moment, Ragna decided he had no reason to sit around either. Without bothering with his own tray, the criminal rose to his feet and made for the door. As soon as he was outside, he turned down the nearest alleyway—love it or hate it, it was just what was the most familiar to him after all this time. While walking, Ragna chewed over Bullet's words. Something to be thankful for, huh?

He thought about all those guys who were hanging out back at Kagura's place right now. Were some of them annoying? Sure. Could a couple even use a punch in the jaw? That should go without saying. However, he couldn't say they were bad people. They meant well at the very least and that wasn't something he could say about just anyone. Ragna knew he owed Kagura an apology too. He would swing by there later, he told himself. He wouldn't make it in time for thanksgiving dinner, but he knew the Black Knight would never turn down a drinking buddy.

If there was anyone to be thankful for, Ragna knew it would be the one who raised him like his own son—Jubei. The aging warrior had no obligation, and no one forced him to do so, but Jubei watched over Ragna all the same. The cat taught Ragna how to fight, how to survive out in the world, and even what it meant to be a man. The cat was his family, his father, and nothing would ever change that. He would have to cook him a meal next time they met, Ragna decided. Pay the cat back for all those meals and show his teacher how much he improved while he was at it. He might even call up Rachel to teleport him so he wouldn't have to wait so long.

And, of course, there was Rachel. She saved his life more times then he could count, always lent a helping hand whether asked to or not, and taught him what it meant to value his humanity. Ragna truly had no idea where he would be in life without that nosy vampire. She was someone, the only one, who knew all there was to know about him and accepted him fully. As long as Rachel was around, Ragna never had to fear being alone. He would have to find a way to tell her all of this, or at least show it with a gesture. After everything she did for him, she deserved as much.

So, yes, Ragna couldn't deny even with all of his bellyaching, he still had plenty he could be thankful for.

Digging into his pocket, Ragna pulled out that silly little medal the runt gave him. Holding it out before him, Ragna couldn't help but smile. She wasn't so bad, Ragna decided as he pocketed it once more. The tacky little knick knack might just serve as a reminder for him after all. The fact that someone like her actually managed to cheer him up a bit gave him a small laugh.

"I guess I might as well be thankful for you too… Bullet."

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 **Review if you like. And happy Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates.**


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